


Unfortunate Endings

by vsnow



Series: Grindeldore One-Shots [10]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Exploring Ariana and her view of Grindeldore, M/M, Obscurus (Harry Potter), Once again Fairytales, Original idea was fluff... this is NOT fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-30 03:55:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18307682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vsnow/pseuds/vsnow
Summary: “That is why I understand his words when he speaks them to you.” Ariana finished, “In all the volumes of unhappiness, he presents you with endings of love and perseverance.”Albus found himself only able to ask one thing, “Then why do you fear for me?”The young witch finally turned the book down, allowing the pages to be visible to her brother.





	Unfortunate Endings

It was a rare occasion that Gellert was in the Dumbledore home.

Aberforth had become increasingly more vocal regarding Albus’s absence and Gellert’s presence on a whole.

It was only today, when Aberforth had to make his way to Diagon Alley and Ariana needed looking after, that the pair had no choice on where to convene.

Over the past few days they had been actively hunting the hallows. They never strayed too far from Godric’s Hallow. And even though it was not his power, Albus felt he saw the future. All the future held for him, for them, should he decide to leave with this now familiar stranger.

The pair sat now, side by side, at a table in the kitchen. Because of Ariana’s close presence, just visible in the next room, they were unable to speak of anything too in depth. Instead the pair had taken the time to review old pieces of literature borrowed from Bathilda’s library. In fact, even Ariana had a very old tome she had taken to read.

She sat silently, flipping the pages and every so often Albus would catch her gaze.

It was strange to say it, but Ariana felt more a stranger to him than the one he had only known for 1 month’s time.

A stranger who wore the face of his sister.

The Ariana he had known had died years ago.

He had mourned that death, feeling a sense of responsibility for her condition. It was a condition they all knew well but would never speak aloud in reference to her. For though she was a strong witch… some day she would lose herself to her affliction and truly be lost forever.

When their eyes met, blue to blue, Albus always found himself strangely conscious of his position. Gellert, acted almost as though she were not present, took any opportunity he had to move ever so close to Albus or rest a gentle hand on his.

Such a display was unthinkable to Albus who, though he enjoyed the contact, would have rather he didn’t in this case.

All seemed to be noticed by Ariana, though her face never changed expression from her usual distant and flat affect.

Albus would flash her a smile, drawing away from any sort of closeness Gellert tried to impose.

The day went on like this until the moment had finally come for Aberforth’s return.

Not wishing to risk any sort of disagreement between brother and lover, Albus suggested they part for the day. A hushed promise hung in the air to meet after nightfall. To which Albus agreed in a rush.

“Till then.”

And the door closed. Leaving the two siblings alone. Albus cleared his throat, not quite knowing what to say.

Fortunately or unfortunately, Ariana was not so uncertain, “Do you plan to run away together? Do you plan to leave me here?”

Albus hesitated for a moment, containing his thoughts.

_How could Ariana know what they planned?_

“What.” Albus let out a light laugh, hoping it would speak to his surprise, “Now where would you get such an idea?” The Dumbledore’s were a family of liars, and Albus had found that even when he felt his most exposed, he was still very good at hiding the truth.

Ariana looked up from her book and then back down again.

Albus walked over to where she sat, taking the space next to her, “What are you reading?” He tried to ask, hoping for some response.

“A book.”

“I see.” Albus nodded, “What story?”

He tried to look over at the page but she closed it, “I already know it will not end well. None of these stories do. I don’t understand why anyone bothers.”

Albus sat back, contemplating for a moment what to say, searching for any sort of wisdom to impart on her, “They are merely stories. Think of them as chapters in the lives of these characters. Where they find hardship and sadness, they learn and grow. Happily ever after must be very boring to write and even more so to read and think about. Because if it truly is the happiest moment, then what ever can come after? There is no room for growth or change. That is all there is and nothing more.”

“I’m worried for your story.” Ariana continued, all to quickly.

It almost seemed to Albus that she had not been listening to him at all, “My story?”

He watched his sister. It seemed as though she were deep in thought, “I was reading a love story. I remember it from long ago, from when… mother…”

Albus was quick to avoid, speaking in hopes to draw her mind from the recent tragedy, “And why does this love story make you worry so for me?”

“They never end well.” Came a whisper.

Albus exhaled, “Well lucky for you, your brother is not in love.”

Her blue eyes finally turned to him, holding something he had not seen for some time… a firm awareness.

“No?”

“No.”

As Ariana opened her mouth to speak once more, Albus for a moment believed she would call him a ‘liar’. But she did not, at least, not so untactfully, “I have been here. I have heard the poetry he reads you, the stories he tells.”

Albus was surprised to hear that what his sister had noticed most of all were their words and not behaviors, “We are merely discussing these old texts and nothing more.” He tried to counter.

“So you don’t believe he is speaking to you through them.” Ariana seemed to ask.

But to Albus it sounded more as an observation, “No.” He spoke the obvious lie, for really he did know.

“I understand them, you know. The words.” Ariana explained, “You know well that I am not fit for the outside world. Instead black ink on the page, the characters that become of it, they have been my companions. I understand it when they speak to me through the pages.”

Albus found himself unable to speak. This seemingly fragile girl in front of him spoke hushed yet confident, showing that she knew exactly what Albus thought her unable to.

“That is why I understand his words when he speaks them to you.” Ariana finished, “In all the volumes of unhappiness, he presents you with endings of love and perseverance.”

Albus found himself only able to ask one thing, “Then why do you fear for me?”

The young witch finally turned the book down, allowing the pages to be visible to her brother.

Albus recognized the story well, “That is a scary one, isn’t it.” He noted, “Not a love story.”

Ariana nodded, looking down at the title.

_The Warlock’s Hairy Heart_

“Is this what has worried you?”

She nodded again, “He has tried to capture you with poetry, he has shown you his heart, but that heart was not one he bore in his chest when Bathilda first brought him to us.”

Of course Albus knew Ariana was not speaking literally. And though it seemed farfetched, he saw the illusion she tried to make.

“What if it is not his own and becomes a monster.” Ariana took a deep breath, “What if that very heart you long for hurts you- takes you away.”

And Albus finally realized what Ariana had originally meant. She knew not of their plans, she was only fearful of… death.

“I don’t want any more people to leave me.” Her eyes became red, tears threatening to fall.

Albus said nothing, neither wishing to confirm nor deny her words nor having any words of wisdom to give.

Her form shifted, dissolving into a mass of black cloud.

“Ariana?” Albus’s eyes grew wide.

She was having another attack.

Albus went quick to work. Containment was his method of choice when this happened. Far less damage and noise.

His tortured sister hit against the walls of the containment spell violently over and over, like a fly trapped behind glass.

“Ari…” Aberforth stumbled onto the scene. He ran to his brother’s side, not at all paying him any mind. He disapproved of Albus’s methods to calm their sister.

For Aberforth, he spoke gently, much like he was speaking to a baby lamb, “Please Ari, hear my voice and follow it back to us.” It was a voice few would believe he possessed, “We love you, Ari. Please.”

The mass slowed, almost as though it was listening. With Aberforth’s guidance, Ariana’s form began to take shape. She looked exhausted, tears still flowing from her eyes, “I don’t want to be alone.” She sobbed.

Albus released her and she fell into her brother’s arms. From over her head, Aberforth glared at his brother as though to say:

_What did you say? What did you do to provoke this?_

Albus looked away. Not wishing to delve into the specifics.

Talk of love and fantasy stories, talk of Gellert, a man already well hated by Aberforth.

No, Albus would not say. It would only cause an argument.

Unfortunately, this only seemed to upset Aberforth more, taking the act to mean Albus didn’t care.

“Come Ari.” Aberforth looked down at his dear sister, “You must rest now.” And he began to lead her away.

“My book.” She hesitated, reaching her arm back out for it.

Albus picked up the old book, but did not give it to her, “I have to return this to Bathilda tonight.” He revealed a half-truth, not turning his word’s to his brother, “Can you look after her?”

Aberforth’s face wrinkled in antipathy, assuming well what those words really meant. Instead of answering his brother, he turned his attention to Ariana, “It will rot your brain and you’ll become like Albus if you read too much.” He offered the shaken girl his own words of wisdom, “Rest and I will share with you a happy tale.”

“Of what?” Ariana asked, as she was led away to bed.

“A Grubby Goat”

“That is what you always tell.”

“Then I’ll make one up.” Aberforth offered.

As his siblings left and their banter could no longer be heard, Albus looked to the book in his hands, wondering now for the first time what sort of end would come to his story.


End file.
